


Of Buttplugs and Barbeque, Asparagus and Queens

by C_Diva (thecollective)



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade Summer Challenge Fic Dump [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, BBQ, Barbecue, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean, Boys Kissing, Butt Plugs, Camping, Destiel Smut Brigade, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Everyone lives, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Funny, Hammocks, Hiatus beard, Humor, Jess is a snark queen, Librarian Cas, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Professor Dean, Sam loves salad, Teacher Dean, This is supposed to be funny, Top Castiel, seasons!verse, summer heat fic challenge, they're in kansas guys, we call it making love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecollective/pseuds/C_Diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's on the tin.</p><p>Written for the Destiel Smut Brigade Summer Heat Challenge. </p><p>Prompt: BBQ</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Buttplugs and Barbeque, Asparagus and Queens

**Author's Note:**

> "The time has come," the Diva said, "To talk of many things...of buttplugs and barbeque, asparagus and queens..."
> 
> Thanks to the Collectress for beta-ing this verse for me and for convincing me to use this ridiculous but apropos title.

_**11:33pm Sam:** I’m going to the grocery store for food. Do you like asparagus?_

_**12:10pm Sam:** DEAN DO YOU LIKE ASPARAGUS????_

_**12:29pm Sam:** Dean. I’m trying to buy food for our trip. I want to grill veggies on the BBQ. Why can’t u just tell me if u like asparagus???? I’m assuming u don’t. I’m getting it anyway  & making u eat it._

__

_**12:30pm Dean:** U ain’t makin me do shit._

***

_**2:45pm Dean:** we’re here! where are you guys?_

_**2:46pm Jess:** ur bro insisted we stop at this farmer’s market before we’re “off the grid” for kale. GOD WHO AM I ANYMORE DEAN???_

__

_**2:46pm Jess:** i hate kale  & am bringing my cell phone_

__

_**2:46pm Jess:** plus, home is w/in jogging distance_

__

_**2:50pm Dean:** earlier he was asking me about asparagus. me thinks moose eat greens!!! HAHA_

__

_**3pm Dean:** just get over here before cas  & i ditch this cabin and hop in the lake without you_

__

_**3:03pm Jess:** don’t. you. dare._

***

When Sam and Jess finally arrive at Clinton State Park, Dean and Cas are unapologetically snuggled in an extra large hammock, purchased solely because the package claimed to be able to hold the weight of two grown men. When Dean wondered out loud in the middle of Wal-Mart why two grown men would ever be in a single hammock, Cas reminded his partner what exactly two men could do in a hanging bed, if they happened to be limber and fairly well-balanced. Dean knew he was blushing something awful the entire time they stood in line at checkout, but that didn’t deter him from buying the damn thing or from challenging Cas to, “prove it,” the moment they fixed the hammock between two trees in front of cabin at Clinton Lake they’d be sharing with Sam and Jess for the next seven days.

“Are you going to help us, or…?” Jess grumbles as she pulls two bags from the trunk of Sam’s Chevy Silverado, which would be cooler if it wasn’t a Hybrid (it’s still pretty cool, which Dean will never admit to anyone, EVER) but he ignores his future sister-in-law, pretending to be asleep even as Cas attempts to wiggle out of the canvas bed without either of them falling.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” Cas growls as he finally gives up and drapes himself over Dean. First he runs his fingers through what Dean calls his summer hiatus beard, the one he can get away with because he’s not teaching and he can look a little ragged since no one’s paying him not to. Then, Cas squeezes Dean’s love handles for good measure, tickling him mercilessly until he lets out a most unmanly squawk and tumbles to the ground in his urgency to escape pokey fingers. Dean’s beer in tact more-so than his pride, he dusts off his shorts dramatically and wanders over to Jess and Sam, taking a sip before deadpanning,

“We’re only twenty minutes from the house, you realize that right, guys?”

The death-glare Jess directs his way and then targets on Sam is more than enough answer for his next question. He asks it anyway.

“So, Sammy, bring enough supplies, or…?”

“Dean, we are not leaving the park until after Labor Day,” Sam huffs and Dean chuckles. “Mission: Annoy Sam” has officially begun. His brother might be seriously losing his mind if he thinks that they’re gonna need a tent, a tarp and sleeping bags, seeing as they rented a fully furnished two-bedroom cabin for the week.

“You know there are beds in there, right?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Jess says cheerfully before slinging a pack over her shoulder and strutting to the front door. “This is nice,” she admits, setting down her bags and surveying the room. The structure sits on a large enough piece of land that the person who built it saw fit to include enough space for ten people, even though there are only two bedrooms. The ceiling looms a good twenty feet above them, crisscross beams creating a zig-zag pattern above their heads. At the northwest corner of the cabin, a large window takes up half the wall of the breakfast nook, making it so the dining table is practically on the porch, separated from the outside by only a thin sheet of glass. Dean rolls his eyes when he sees his brother move to slink his arms around Jess, as she stands, arms crossed admiring the view of the cliffs and the lake below.

“The breakfast nook is gorgeous, but that couch with the awful duck print is almost as hideous as Dean’s beard,” she grouses, dropping her bags and turning to kiss Sam. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose, huh Cas?”

Cas just grunts as he moves behind Dean and kisses him behind the ear and Dean swears he does not jump six inches off the ground when Cas grabs his ass _in front of everyone_ before pulling him down onto his lap and that hideous duck-print couch. Dean scoots off Cas and leans against the opposite end of the couch, placing his feet onto Cas’ legs and grinning at his partner, who is expressedly ignoring him. He wiggles his toes to get Cas’ attention, which works, but now he’s regretting it, because Cas is touching his feet and Dean has a thing about people touching his feet (he’s really just ticklish, but no one needs to know that information), which is embarrassing. Of course Cas knows Dean’s ticklish and he’s also cruel and capricious, so it doesn’t take long for the feather light touches on the bottom of his feet to turn relentless, which causes Dean to wriggle and squirm until he is, once again, flat on his ass, on the ground.

“This seems to be a theme with you, Dean.” Cas waggles his eyebrows, unrepentant.

“Shut up,” Dean says, not quite under his breath, as he hauls himself to his feet for the second time in ten minutes, limping exaggeratedly and rubbing his ass as he heads to the refrigerator for another cold beer. “I thought you liked my ass,” he grumbles, attempting to hide his grin behind the bottle at his lips.

“I like the beard better, but only because it’s fleeting, but beggars should not be choosers, as Jess mentioned,” Cas says and then he chuckles, as if remembering a joke he heard some time before. He turns to Jess. “Did you know that in early nineteenth century Chile, many beggars rode on horseback because Corraleros were very cheap. Chilean Corraleros are still an extremely hardy breed, with low metabolism, a high threshold for pain, a great immunity to disease and a remarkable rate of recuperation, which gives them a very large capacity for work.” He pauses and winks at Dean. “For Chilean rancheros, a beard is a sign of heartiness and strength.”

“Ha! Hear that, Jess? My librarian translator genius is full of random-but-awesome information,” Dean grins, triumphant, taking a swig of his ice cold beer before stage whispering to Cas, “Is any of that even true?”

“Your librarian is full of shit,” Jess drawls when she sees Cas smirk at Dean from under his gunmetal aviators.  

At that, Sam huffs a surprised sound and Cas can’t even pretend that he isn’t full of shit, so he just leans back on the couch, all smug and disinterested while Dean, Sam and Jess spend a full five minutes laughing while Cas tries not to break character.

By the time Sam lugs all his and Jess’ camping “essentials” into their room off the kitchen, Dean has pointed out at least seven times (because he, too, is cruel and capricious) that they have all the amenities of a two-star hotel inside the cabin and Sam could leave half (more than half) the supplies in the back of the truck packed away for the next seven days and no one would be the wiser.

“Dude, where did you even get an axe?” Dean doesn’t even try to hide his laughter as he watches his brother arrange all the completely unnecessary gear into he and Jess’ room. Right about the time Sam looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, Dean makes sure to pipe up, “None of this is going in the shared living space,” before Sam can even articulate the question. “Mission: Annoy Sam” is in full effect.

“We might need to chop wood, or something,” Sam offers halfheartedly while Jess bites back a giggle by faking a choking spell that has Sam looking between Dean and Jess with the murderous glare he usually reserves for his law professors or the person who buys the last of the kale at Whole Foods.

“And the bungee cord? You gonna explain why we will need twenty feet of bright yellow rope?”

At that, Jess can’t hide it any longer, not that she was doing a good job in the first place, and Dean watches with amusement as she falls back onto the bed in a fit of giggles that seems to be contagious because suddenly, they’re all laughing, except Cas, who’s standing in the doorway looking at them as if they’re crazy. They probably are, but Cas is a bigger nerd than all of them put together, and when Dean says this out loud, he’s rewarded with a gummy smile and a smack on the side of the head from his ever-loving boyfriend, but it’s worth it and he doesn’t complain. Much.

***

The plan is this: relax, drink, eat, repeat.

Dean makes sure everyone knows he is going to spend his time in Clinton State Park without shoes on, by the beach, with a beer no further than two feet away in a cooler he’s written his name on in block letters.

“Real mature, Dean,” Sam tells him as he attempts to grab a beer out of what is obviously Dean’s cooler (says so right on the top) and gets his hand slapped away.

“The Super Soaker is coming out next, dude. Get your own,” Dean winks at Cas behind the aviators he stole from him last month but his boyfriend looks less than impressed, raising a single eyebrow before turning his attention back to his book, which is disappointing because Dean’s pretty sure the glasses look great on him.

“You brought a Super Soaker?” Sam lights up and, right, back to his mission to torture Sammy.

“Actually I brought four Super Soakers. Why? Is that something you’d be interested in, perchance?” Dean asks just to irritate Sam, which works like a charm, because his brother is huffing and rolling his eyes like he hasn’t since, well, earlier that day, because Sam is a big baby.

“Deeeean,” Sam whines, _honest to god whines_ , to which Dean grabs the Nerf gun already locked and loaded and hiding under the snazzy camping chair he bought because it has three cupholders. THREE. Sam spots the water gun a moment too late and Dean sprays his brother square in the face before his natural moose reflexes kick in and he can get away.

“Aw, you fucker! Where’s mine? I’m gonna get you so good,” Sam sputters, flinging wet hair out of his face, which must be a mating call for Jess, because she turns around from her spot on the grass to watch her fiance tie his mane up in a rubber band that materializes out of the ether before Dean can say “Super Soaker”.

“Go get me more beer, and maybe I’ll tell you where the other Super Soakers are,” Dean counters, smug.

“They’re under the sink in the bathroom, Sam,” Cas, the traitorous Benedict Arnold that he is, drawls from the blanket on the grass at Dean’s feet, matching aviators looking pretty damn hot, if Dean says so himself.

“Bring me one, too,” Cas finishes, managing to ignore the sharp kick Dean administers to his shin with a dignity and grace that Dean actually admires for a split second before remembering how his traitorous boyfriend isn’t even on his side.

“And me,” Jess adds from the beach towel where she’s attempting to tan and read and listen to music on her headphones, which seems like a lot of things to do at once, Dean ponders as he watches his brother jog to the cabin for three more Super Soakers.

After a rousing game of “Everyone gang up on Sam with water guns”, they light up the grill to toss on some burgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob and asparagus. Jess materializes with potato salad, cold watermelon and these red, white and blue fruit kabobs with strawberries, blueberries and marshmallows that Dean zeroes in on. He forgoes the fruit and eats only the sweet candy, offering Cas his blueberries with an eyebrow wiggle and smile. Cas pops them into his mouth and then frowns at Dean.

“You should eat the blueberries.”

“What? No! It’s a barbeque. I don’t have to eat fruit if I don’t want to,” Dean grumbles as he stuffs a jumbo marshmallow in his mouth. “Besides, Sam is gonna grill up vegetable kabobs and even though I plan on smothering anything green in butter and salt, I’m sure I’ll get my daily serving,” he smirks before giving up and grabbing the bag full of marshmallows off the table and settling in to eat a half dozen or so.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Mister Winchester,” Cas says, voice unwavering, but Dean recognizes his boyfriend’s bland sense of humor by now, and can see the tilt of a smile balancing on the corner of Cas’ mouth that Dean wants to taste.

“Don’t I know it,” he says and kisses the blueberry juice right off of Cas’ lips, triumphant smile spread across his face when Cas relents and kisses him back, all sloppy and sugary and so, so perfect.

When it’s Dean’s turn at the grill, he makes fast work of wrapping up an entire 8-pack of Ball Park beef franks in maple bacon and placing them on the bottom shelf of a humongous outdoor grill that graces the back porch. In between the hot dogs are hamburger patties, plus potatoes wrapped in tin foil, which Dean watches over obsessively, his spatula hovering only inches above at all times. Sam has wrapped up asparagus in olive oil, garlic and foil, and created these kabobs with green peppers, onions and steak bits that Dean will probably end up actually eating because everything smells so damn delicious.

“Are you sure we’re gonna have enough meat, Dean?” Sam snarks from behind him, waving tongs in the general direction of the grill island.

“Shut it, Samantha. You can eat your kale salad all by your lonesome.” Dean raises an eyebrow at Jess. "The lady wants beef!”

Sam looks over at Jess, who suddenly seems engrossed in the texture of the picnic table where she sits, eyes downward, examining the wood with the keen eye of a woman attempting to avoid the subject of salad.

“Everyone will have a little of everything, isn’t that right, Jess?” Cas offers, amicable as always and Dean can’t help but soften when he sees Cas walking out of the cabin wearing the apron Sam bought as a joke. Cas, though, wears it completely un-ironically, oblivious to the absolute fact that **real dudes** don’t put on frilly aprons with pink and white cupcakes all over them.

Real dudes are overrated.

He blinks twice and mumbles, “Watch ‘em,” before thrusting the spatula at a gaping Sam, who just shakes his head but takes the utensil from his brother. Cas just looks really cute in that apron and Dean  has to go grab the pie and potato chips out of his hands so that he can then wrap his arms around Cas without fear of dropping dessert and ruining that warm, delicious, freshly baked pie.

“Mmmm, you smell good,” Dean murmurs as he snakes his arms around Castiel.

“I made blueberry,” Cas says, hovering over the table, now covered with a red, white and blue tablecloth and a dozen different dishes. “At least this way, I know you’ll eat them,” he chuckles and Dean can feel the heat of him as Cas leans back against his chest. Six feet of long, lean librarian in Dean’s arms and he loses the ability to speak, only able to hum his satisfaction when Cas tilts his head and kisses him, soft and slow enough for Dean to begin to worry that he might start sporting an inappropriate picnic chubby in about ten seconds. Cas must sense Dean’s growing, aherm, situation, or maybe he has perfect timing, because in one swift movement, Cas has pulled the apron from around his neck and placed it around Dean’s and suddenly, he’s tying it behind his back and telling Dean how adorable he looks. He doesn’t back away or blush because gender and sexuality are spectrums, thank you very much, and he loves to make Cas smile those really big, gummy smiles. Dean refuses to give Cas his apron back until all the food is cooked and plated and it’s time to eat, much to Sam and Jess’ delight. He doesn’t care, because the way Cas has been looking at him all night, Dean’s pretty sure he’s gonna get some.

So sure, in fact, he doesn’t even eat that second piece of pie.

***

When the two couples meader back to their respective rooms to get cleaned up, Dean and Sam share a brief but knowing look. Their silent communication has been perfected after 30 years of living under the same roof and trying their damndest not to see each other having sex, because, ew, and also, they’re grown up adult types with jobs and bills and stuff. At home, which seems a faraway memory but is in reality only 20 minutes down the highway, a closed door is a sacred pact that remains unbroken until the door is flung open and the space is once again, available within limits. The brothers just know.

His boyfriend, on the other hand, gets out of the shower without any idea as to why Dean has him cornered in their room. Cas figures it out when he notices that Dean is butt-naked and the window shades are pulled shut, even though the pattern that materializes when they’re closed is the exact same duck motif that graces the couch and the curtains in the front room. In other words, they’re ugly and sort of a turn off but Cas just got out of the shower and he’s dripping wet and Dean wants himself an armful of sexy librarian, which isn’t his smoothest line, but it works everytime.

“C’mere angel.” Dean’s voice is gruff and needy but he doesn’t care, because, after a year, he isn’t afraid to admit that he loves Cas and he needs him and all of the other shit that comes with falling for a sexy ass librarian, like the Dewey Decimal System and late fees.

“Dean...your brother…”

“Is currently indisposed on the opposite side of this very large, very well insulated cabin, so get your sweet ass over here,” Dean purrs as he pulls Cas by the towel which he then drops onto the floor. With a slick, straight-from-the-shower, completely naked boyfriend now on his lap, Dean grunts a happy sound and rolls them over so Cas is underneath him. Suddenly, there is nothing separating miles of his own freckled skin from Cas’ golden brown (how does he tan so well?) skin and Dean can’t help but buck up into the wonderful friction of Cas’ cock against his.

“Cas,” Dean sighs, the only noise in the room the sound of their laboured breathing and Dean’s heartbeat, which he is sure that Cas can hear and will comment on or make a joke about, at some point. Instead, Cas looks Dean right in the eye and licks his hand, reaching down between them to pull a slow drag on Dean’s cock and he loses it. Whimpering into Cas’ mouth, his breath hitches as he fucks into Cas’ fist, bucking his hips hard and fast. Cas chuckles, low and dirty against his shoulder and bites, then licks the red mark and kisses it softly as he pumps Dean’s dick in his hand, grinding his own hardening member up against Dean’s thigh, shameless in his search for friction.

“Dean, touch me,” Cas asks, and Dean doesn’t have to be told twice. His eyes fly open and his hands are everywhere at once, on Cas’ face, his chest, his cock. “Yesss…” It is an affirmation and a command as Dean wraps his fingers around Cas and himself, watching as Cas arches his back off the bed, digging his heels into fresh sheets, hands splayed above his head, offering himself up to his lover.

It’s the hottest thing Dean’s ever seen.

“Fuck, Cas, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, bending down to kiss Cas, mouth sloppy and wet. “You look so good underneath me. Wanna ride you, babe.” Dean reaches back with a free hand and feels for it. He worked the glass plug inside while Cas took a shower, taking the time to work himself open until the toy fit nice and snug. Dean’s breath quickens as he watches Cas’ pupils dilate and his tongue flicker out to lick at his lips.

“Did you…?” Cas asks, breathless.

“I couldn’t wait.” Dean pants when he feels Cas wrap his fingers around the plug and tug, pulling the toy out torturously slow. “Want you inside, now. Fuck me, Cas, please,” he begs, moving to lie on his belly, trapping his leaking cock between his stomach and the mattress, wiggling his ass in the air until he feels Cas spreading his cheeks apart. Burying his face into the pillow, Dean moans when Cas blows cool air against his exposed pink rim. It is gaping and wet with lube and Cas doesn’t waste any time before rubbing his cock head against Dean’s entrance and sliding in.

“Oh, shit, Dean...you’re so fucking tight,” Cas groans as he pushes in, grabbing at Dean’s hips, filling him up. Dean pushes back, ass bouncing against Cas’ cock until Cas slows and, eventually, stills. Dean grunts his displeasure, until he feels Cas pulling him into his lap, strong arms around his waist, thighs warm and flush against his.

“Thought you wanted to ride me?” Cas rumbles, voice deep and heady. His hands are splayed across Dean’s shoulders and back as he lies down to allow Dean control. Facing away, knees spread on either side of Cas’ thighs, Dean rides him reverse cowgirl, _er_ , boy, style, his own cock hard and bouncing, strips of white precome striping his stomach.

“You do the work. I’m on vacation,” Cas jokes, but Dean can hear his breath hitch when Dean rolls his body in a figure eight, snapping his hips and clenching over and over again until Cas is a writhing mess underneath him. Dean turns his head, and shit, he almost comes right then, when he sees Cas with his eyes closed and his chest flushed pink all the way up to his neck, sweat gathering in the area between his pecs.

Dean wants to lick it off.

Cas crinkles his forehead in concentration and perhaps to stave off his impending orgasm and Dean takes his member in hand, tugging on it lazily, setting pace with Cas’ thrusts. He can feel the pleasure bubbling up from the base of his spine, moving throughout his nerves and he knows Cas is waiting for him to come, can feel his lover teetering on the edge of pleasure, ready to jump. He arches his back until Cas is hitting that sweet spot with every thrust and there are fireworks on the back of his eyelids, sparks of pleasure coursing through his body.

“Dean…” Cas chants his name, fingernails digging half moons into the skin of his hips as he holds Dean still and fucks into him, hard. And that’s it, that’s all she wrote; Dean is striping spend all over his own fist and stomach, his hole tightening around Cas’ cock, milking the warm come that spurts into his body until they’re fall into one another, panting, sweaty and still.

Outside, the woods are quiet; the soft whir and buzz of the cicadas whispering in the trees, the soft lap of lake water a far away echo. The sun has set and their cabin room is illuminated only by dim lamp light and the rising moon. The Kansas night is clear and warm, and Dean can’t remember a more perfect evening in all of his life. Surrounded by the people he loves most in the world, he thinks this might be the best vacation he’s ever taken. Dean mumbles these words in the darkness of their room and Cas kisses him, soft and sweet, from his jawline to his lips, whispering promises into his skin, until they both fall asleep.

*****  
**   
  


 

**My inspiration:**

** **

****GUH THESE FUCKERS!!!** **

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this fic to Jensen's hiatus beard. Thank you for existing. I love you. See ya next summer.


End file.
